What does Bravery look like?

I ran three races last week, hosted a corporate event and a system wide training program at our studio, we opened the doors yesterday and lived to tell about it. Smiling and sleeping soundly, no less.

Last week was a little nutty, to be honest. As I drove around town feeling somewhat like a mad-woman last Thursday, I realized that my heart was pounding and my eyes were seconds away from filling with tears. I’m so overwhelmed, I thought, I’ve made a mistake. I should have just left things as they were. I wish I was a stay at home mom. Realizing that this train of thought was about to tail-spin me into tears, I acquired myself a cup of tea (my Scottish heritage runs deep, and there is not much in life that a cup of hot tea won’t fix, in my opinion), parked my car beside the water and took ten minutes to myself. I drank my tea and closed my eyes and took deep breaths and after a short time, felt much better.

That was the worst of it. I ran a 5k race on Friday night in the pouring rain, and a 10k Saturday morning before arriving at the studio for the afternoon. By Saturday night I was exhausted, physically and mentally, so I spent Sunday with my kids. We watched a movie, went to the grocery store and did some meal prep for the week. 

Monday morning arrived with blue skies and optimism and hope and excitement and, on top of all of that, yogis in the studio during our classes!

So much is unknown still. Will my energy level continue? Will I manage to have dinner ready for the whole week every Sunday? Will I burn out? Will the fact that I miss the kids’ tae-kwon do class every Monday night eventually start to wear on me? Will I ever feel on top of the laundry and cleaning again? And the answer to all of these questions is simply: I don’t know. If I focus on the unknown, my heart starts to race, my stomach knots. Because the known is in the future. The unknown is scary (especially to neurotically organized planners like myself). The unknown makes the picture look fuzzy, because you can’t see what you’re walking into.

Brave and fearless are two words I’ve heard so much throughout this journey. When I think of brave and fearless, I think of my husband. He sees what he wants to accomplish, sets a plan and follows it. He doesn’t stress when conflict or obstacles arise; he simply handles the situation. Myself, on the other hand, I am far from fearless. In fact, sometimes it feels like I’m afraid of everything. And brave? Well, I don’t know about that either. Does bravery worry so much? Does bravery burst into tears when it’s tired? Does bravery eat chocolate chip cookies in the afternoon because it feels stressed?

Yet, despite all of that, despite the doubt and despite the unknown and despite the fear, what always comes back is a deep understanding that this is right. That this is what we are called to do. In university, I spent a lot of time worrying about what job I would have “when I grew up” (see above: unknown future = stress). I had no idea what I wanted. No idea. I only knew that I wanted to help people. It took until my 30’s but here I am, creating a space to help people, in every aspect of their lives. And that’s how I know it’s right, because in my heart I know it’s what I’ve always wanted, I just didn’t know what it would look like. And I certainly didn’t know it could be so scary.

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2 Comments on “What does Bravery look like?

  1. I’ve met you three times exactly, and I’m not even sure if you know who I am, but I have a feeling you are going to do great. You are so passionate about what you do, and that resonates from you every time you talk about your studio, or when I saw you running this weekend. Go easy on yourself, because you’ve done the hard work to get here, and hopefully a little more and it will all fall into place.

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